A Gin Kind of Girl and a Whiskey Kind of Guy
by DogwoodsAndBluebells
Summary: Peggy Carter finds herself in the company of one Sergeant Barnes while waiting for Steve to finish a meet and greet. It doesn't go exactly as she'd expected.


Summary: Peggy Carter finds herself in the company of one Sergeant Barnes while waiting for Steve to finish a meet and greet. It doesn't go exactly as she'd expected.

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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A Gin Kind of Girl and a Whiskey Kind of Guy

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The air was beginning to turn chilly as Peggy walked steadily down the street, her heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk. The pub door was cracked open, music spilling into the road with a warm and inviting air. The light that shone through the gap was warm and inviting, and Peggy found herself hurrying towards it. She shouldered her way through the door with confidence, her head held high, and shed her coat at the entrance. Hanging it on one of the coat trees that littered the small foyer, she paused and took a quick glance of the room.

Steve – _Captain Rogers_, she scolded herself – was standing along the far wall with a group of officers, obviously making the rounds to boost morale and to make face, as he'd call it. His newly formed Howling Commandos were peppered around the room, laughing uproariously and celebrating their new positions, as well they should. The pub was filled to bursting with soldiers and drink and, for a small space of time, there was no war. Peggy smiled softly to herself and made her way to the bar.

"Gin and tonic, please," she requested of the bartender, dropping a few coins on the counter as she hitched herself onto an empty stool. "Neat."

"I didn't take you for a gin kind of girl," came a low drawl from her left and Peggy found herself meeting the heavy-lidded gaze of Sergeant Barnes. He stood with his back to the bar, one foot propped on the base of the counter and a short glass of what looked to be whiskey held loosely in his fingers.

She offered him a sharp smile that she hoped was still friendly enough. "I didn't take you for the kind of man that makes judgments, Sergeant."

He grinned at her jibe, unoffended as he tipped his tumbler to his lips, and she took a moment to inspect him. He'd polished up slightly for the meet-and-greet, although he still possessed two days' worth of stubble and an air of savagery about him that wasn't quite contained. Barnes's attention had drifted to where Steve was conversing with a British officer. The soldier's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts clearly elsewhere and not actually on the scene in front of him.

Peggy felt a faint sense of pity for what had happened to him, fully aware that Barnes wouldn't appreciate the sentiment, that no soldier would, and not quite being able to help herself. He'd been pulled from isolation, with Arnim Zola, and the possibilities of what could have happened to him in there were endless. She squirmed on her barstool and his eyes snapped to her with such immediacy that she nearly startled.

Seeing that he surprised her, he offered an apologetic half smile before returning his attention to Steve. "Did you need something in particular, Agent Carter?"

"No," she replied, settling herself as he took another drink. She cursed her obvious reaction; she'd been in a bunker for too long. "I find myself curious as to your thoughts on Steve's transformation."

She had been trying to follow her mother's advice for the social situations that she so rarely found herself in these days and make small talk, but she decided after the words had passed her lips that she truly was interested. From what little Steve had told her before he had gone into the HYDRA base, Barnes had fashioned himself as Steve's protector. It had to be a shock for the soldier to see his small friend so altered.

Barnes smirked, the expression wry. "It's going to take a little getting used to."

"I think he agreed with you, in the beginning," she returned, her lips quirking in a grin. The bartender set her drink at her elbow and she smiled her thanks, taking a sip and letting the slow burn warm her belly. "He looked rather like a toddler, coming out of that chamber."

"You were there?" She turned her head to find him staring at her. Peggy nodded, feeling oddly discomfited by the fervency of Barnes's gaze. "What the hell happened?"

"I'm not quite sure of the particulars," she hedged, trying to parse out how much she was able to tell Sergeant Barnes of what she knew. He had commandeered a barstool for himself at some point, and now he sat, perfectly still, waiting for her to explain. "But I know that Steve was injected with a serum that enhanced his body structure and DNA."

Barnes snorted, turning back to his glass. "Clearly."

There was a moment's hesitation as she scrutinized his profile, looking for some indication that he grasped the full concept of what had been done, and then Peggy continued.

"The serum enhances everything," she said delicately, willing him to understand the depth of what Erskine and Stark had done.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Know that for a fact, huh?"

The undercurrent of his tone informed her of what he meant and she narrowed her eyes in his direction. "I mean the serum enhanced not only his physical attributes, but also some of his personality. He feels everything much more potently than he did before."

"But he's still Steve," Barnes stated after a moment, rubbing the edge of his half-empty glass along his bottom lip as he thought. His gaze flicked to hers. "Right?"

"Well, yes," she admitted bemusedly. Her slight confusion only grew when Barnes shrugged, tipping his tumbler back.

"Then nothing else matters. Steve will always be a kid from Brooklyn. A little guy who gets into more fights than he should and stands up for the victims. Even when the victims are bigger than him and can take care of themselves." He watched as Steve shook another hand, posing awkwardly for a picture. "Nothing could change that."

"I suppose you're right," she murmured. Peggy followed his line of sight, unaware that her expression was betraying her growing fondness for the tall American.

"I've seen that look before." She turned at the wry tone of his voice and felt the blood rush to her cheeks at his teasing expression. "But never directed at Steve."

Her spine snapped straight of its own accord, her shoulders squaring. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Sergeant. Captain Rogers and I are colleagues."

"Of course," he finally agreed, in such a way that she knew he was placating her. "My mistake."

"Quite right," she said with finality, turning back to her long neglected drink and sitting in companionable, wordless quiet with Barnes.

"You haven't asked why," she suddenly said into the silence that had stretched between them. He paused, drink halfway to his lips, and lifted a brow at her for elaboration. "Why Steve was chosen."

"Lady," Barnes began, unexpected laughter bubbling at the back of his throat and crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "I've known Steve since he was four. I don't have to ask why."

Peggy suppressed a smile. "I see."

"Do you?"

She blinked bemusedly at the sobriety of his tone, and realized that he was judging her. It made sense, she thought absently. She and Doctor Erskine had seen the same things that Barnes had always known about. With protective instincts that ran as deep as childhood, it was really no wonder that Barnes was exerting them even now.

That didn't mean she was pleased with it.

"I like to think so," she rejoined, nudging her glass away so that she could face the insolent caveman with her best authoritative glare. It didn't have quite the effect that she was going for, judging by the amusement in his eyes, but it did force a change in subject.

"I take it that he didn't tell you about me," Barnes complained mockingly, taking a long drink. "I'm wounded."

She rolled her eyes, sipping delicately at her cocktail.

"I'm sure it's a novel feeling," she replied, her voice emerging more acerbically than she'd intended. "Much like a Steve that can take care of himself."

She knew instinctively that it was not only the wrong thing to say, but that her tone was completely inappropriate for the Captain's oldest friend. Barnes froze, his muscles going deathly still, and she sucked in a breath as he turned on his stool to face her fully, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"Let me tell you something, Agent Carter," he murmured lowly, leaning forward and crowding into her space. "You could make Steve _bulletproof_ and he'd still need someone on his six. He was fighting bullies in _kindergarten_, standing up for people when he was dying of _pneumonia_, and trying to join the Army because he _just wanted to fucking help_, despite a list of illnesses as long as my arm."

He paused for breath and she tried to regain her equilibrium, a hand in the conversation.

"That's not the body part I thought you'd choose," she managed primly, covering her unease at his intensity with a joke and some gin.

He grinned, the expression angry and sharp. "He wasn't that sick."

She watched him down the rest of his drink and silently order another. "What was the point that you wanted to make, Sergeant?"

Barnes sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as some of the fight left him. "No matter how invincible you make him, he'll keep pushing himself to do more. Maybe I can't fight his battles for him anymore, but I can damned well still watch his back."

"As can I," she murmured, her eyes hard.

The soiree raged on around them, the noise dampening on the copse of chilly stillness maintained between the two at the bar. Neither of them noticed Steve finally extricate himself from his throng of admirers and plunge through the pub to their sides.

The Captain took one look at the righteously angry glowers being thrown between his best friend and his agent and sighed. "Is there something that I need to know about before you two come to blows? Dugan would probably like to take bets."

"Of course," Peggy announced crisply, her gaze never wavering. "You should bet on me to win."

Barnes laughed, downing his fresh drink in one smooth motion. He set the tumbler firmly on the table with a clink and rose. Peggy watched with interest as Steve fixed him with a glare. It wasn't one that she'd often seen on his kind face, and she wondered how Barnes would take it.

"Just a difference of opinion," he assured Steve, clapping the taller man on the shoulder, to Peggy's surprise. Steve rolled his eyes and subtly blocked Barnes's exit.

"I seem to remember how those tend to work out," he muttered dryly, a hint of a smile on his face.

Barnes snorted. "For you, yeah. Never did know when to keep your mouth shut."

"Learned from the best," Steve countered smoothly.

"Don't talk about your ma that way," Barnes protested teasingly, the hint of a true smile emerging on his face. "I won't stand for it."

Steve chuckled, the sound loud enough to carry in a small radius around them, and Peggy felt slightly remorseful for her behavior as Steve turned his laughing eyes her way. "Bucky didn't bother you too much, did he, Agent Carter?"

Peggy involuntarily met Barnes's eyes at Steve's left, and the look on his face was jarring. He looked back at her with absolution, eyes wide and guileless as he twisted his lips deprecatingly and flicked his eyes to Steve. _I'll take the fall _was written into every motion of his muscles, an olive branch offered, and she stammered out a reply for Steve as the thought shook her. "Of course not. Sergeant Barnes and I were simply disagreeing on the merits of baseball to cricket."

"I'm going to have to agree with Buck on this one," Steve said laughingly. "No game where you wear a sweater is really a sport."

Barnes nearly choked, covering his snicker with a palm, but Peggy was more intrigued by the knowing look in Steve's eye. Barnes was busying himself with his coat and Steve leaned in to the bar, ordering a pint with a wave of his hand.

"Whatever it he said, he really didn't mean it," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear over the din of the room. "He's just used to things the way that they were. He'll come around."

Barnes was finished, so Peggy merely nodded, hiding her discomfort behind her glass as the sergeant nudged Steve. "See you back at the barracks?"

"In a bit," Steve promised, glancing down the bar to where the bartender was pouring ales. "I think I've earned a bit of rest and a drink."

"Thought your new special constitution took care of that need for rest part," Barnes goaded softly.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Even you can't say no to a beer."

Barnes laughed, slapping a hand on the taller man's back. "Make it a good one," he said, turning to leave.

Steve mock saluted him. "You got it, Buck."

"Sergeant," Peggy said, dipping her head politely as his movements brought him flush with her.

Barnes glanced to where Steve was occupied with accepting his overflowing drink, and leaned in close. Peggy's back stiffened as his lips brushed the hair tucked behind her ear.

"This is going to make a great story for my best man's speech at your wedding," he informed her in a whisper. He leaned back as Steve returned his attention to them and moved smoothly down the bar. Peggy ignored Steve's questioning look, twisting to follow Barnes's retreating figure with her mouth falling open in outrage.

"Peggy." She started at her given name and stared at Steve. He took in her fading irritation, and Barnes slipping into the night, and his fine brows slammed downwards in apprehensive concern. "Everything okay? Did Bucky say something to upset you?"

"Of course not. Everything's fine." She rallied herself. "Barnes is just in his cups, that's all. He doesn't know what he's saying."

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_Fin._


End file.
